


Warm

by ziegler



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU where Amélie Lacroix stays that way, Alternate Universe, F/F, Pharmercy, Romance, Widowtracer, widowtracer centric with a little pharmercy in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:44:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziegler/pseuds/ziegler
Summary: Lena Oxton is just like the rest of us - when she can't sleep, she thinks too much. But when she has Amélie Lacroix in her arms, safe and sound, Lena finds that it makes both her worries and memories much more bearable.





	

Lena always watches Amélie sleep.

She knew, from the first instance that they slept together, that she would be the early bird. Having Amélie laying naked in her arms, content, pressed up, soft, quiet; it was bliss. Lena would stroke her cheek, and kiss her forehead, and think to herself how thoroughly her adoration grew by each moment that passed.

Lena knew she would always be the one who stays up late and wakes up early. How long had they been together now? She thought. Two years and counting, much to her pleasure. Four hours sleep was no problem on a daily basis for Lena Oxton, but Amélie was out like a light after work. But Amélie adores her; all of her longing and her desires follow, spilling out for Lena after the day is over; allowing Lena’s hands exploring her skin like a familiar map, knowing each and every place to touch, every place to put her lips, every sound that will come from Amélie’s throat following the action. Lena’s hands were well-travelled, a certified expert in Amélie Lacroix. She was always satisfied, always very, _very_ happy to be worn out; and when Amélie touched her, exhausted and horny and completely insatiable, it had the opposite effect.

Amélie would fuck her, hard and _intense_ , grunting and panting into their sloppy, hungry kisses, with Lena almost unable to hold back from the second Amélie slipped her hand between her legs; but after Lena felt herself come, gasping for breath and Amélie limp on top of her, she felt such adrenaline from such an experience.

The morning was beginning to break through the windows a little; golden hues of sunrise lingering between thick, grey clouds of night, hovering still amidst the dewdrops of spring outside. Her arms tightened around Amélie’s waist, kissing at her cheek gently as she slept; breathing in the familiar jasmine of her perfume, mingled with Amélie’s dark hair. She always thought how cute it was to watch her lover smile so sleepily, whether that was in the moon or sunlight, and so perfectly content in Lena’s arms. Lena felt her naked skin pressed up against Amélie’s back in her embrace, pulling her back against her gently, and exhaled into the crook of her neck. No, more than exhaling – sighing.

Was it a sigh of relief, or apprehension?

She didn’t know.

Lena felt the sting of fatigue prick up rudely at the back of her eyes, and flickered her dark lashes over them quickly to push it back. She never wanted her days to end, and especially not the nights with Amélie.

These moments where they got to just be… _themselves_ , the moments where Amélie didn’t have to think about _work_ , or Gérard, or how she had almost been a ransom ticket to a man that she never loved in the first place, were perfect. Lena wanted to kiss Amélie all over again, kiss her and tell her so profusely how she so loved being with her, how she adored all these small, miniscule moments in time, where she could hold her so warmly. There was so much she wanted to say, and Lena thought to herself how lucky she was that she had gotten to at all, let alone over the course of a life together.

Life had been more than Lena Oxton had bargained for lately, for better and for worse. Amélie almost didn’t have a life at _all_ , from narrowly avoiding a kidnapping by Talon; as well as Lena herself, just from finding out that if she had gone ahead with the test of the slipstream, she might not even be here. Lost in a void in time, with no way back. _And then what_? She thought, _a life without Amélie_? A life without herself, even?

To not exist is worse than to die, Lena thought, laying in the dark, with her warm arms around Amélie’s exposed midriff.

She felt Amélie’s hands instinctively, softly, place themselves around her wrists, holding them gently, and nuzzling back against Lena’s front. Lena smiled, and her heart felt warmed.

“I love you,” she mumbled against the shell of Amélie’s ear, who in turn let out a noise that almost sounded like a chirp of affection in her sleep, and Lena giggled before kissing it.

Lena’s eyes stung ever more from fatigue, no matter how much she fluttered her eyelids over her dark brown eyes. The luminous glare of the alarm clock burned into her retinas from afar, with the glow of “04:54” burned on her eyelids, and the only noise that could be heard were faint ambulance sirens in the distance of King’s Row. Lena could hear hovercars outside booting up for the day’s work ahead alongside that, and was thankful for the sheer delight of knowing tomorrow was her day off.

Lena’s apartment was spacious, for what it was. She thought it was a little cramped, in that there was just this room – her makeshift bedroom, lounge, and dining room all in one – a bathroom off in the corner, which was separated only by a door to the kitchen. But despite her displeasure at the lack of space, there was an almost consistent smell of ground coffee and cigarettes – Amélie was typically French, after all – along with the smells of their perfumes mixed together, which comforted Lena more than anything.

It _felt_ like home, and it smelled like home; with Amélie’s clothes everywhere, her shampoos in the bathroom, her make up by Lena’s mirror…it certainly felt like the home Lena had longed for. “Home is where the heart is,” she often thought to herself, and then laughed internally at her newfound love of being shamelessly romantic.

The ceiling fan above her whirred around silently, a gentle, cool breeze blowing against the hair on her skin, and the shadows of the leaves on the tree outside Lena’s apartment windows dancing against her wooden floorboards. The silence was golden, and untouched; the soft sound of Amélie’s breathing comforting Lena’s ears like a lullaby.

But even with all of these factors, Lena sighed.

She still couldn’t sleep.

This wasn’t unusual. Haunting thoughts often kept her up. And she knew exactly why.

The thought of loss was too much, most nights. _Potential_ loss, at that. How would she possibly cope with any full loss of the one she loved?

It was scary.

 

Lena lay, and thought back to how she had previously had this conversation with Angela Ziegler, about her own lover in Fareeha Amari, and Lena knew that Angela knew better than anyone that loss was traumatic.

Perhaps it was the time of morning, but Lena couldn’t remember how they had gotten on to the conversation. She remembered that she had gone for her physical check – peak fitness was of the utmost importance, after all – and Angela was the one who happened to be doing it that day.

Lena had smiled to herself warmly, she remembered, as she saw Angela and Pharah kiss down the hallway; with Pharah holding her cobalt blue helmet under her arm. Angela stroked Pharah’s cheeks twice with her thumbs softly, and Pharah smiled back, beamed even, a warm, affectionate, utterly smitten smile, as she leant against the doorframe. She kissed Angela’s forehead once more; stroking her hands as she forcibly turned herself away, and bid her farewell for the day.

Lena cleared her throat after Pharah had been gone for a couple of minutes, and Angela had not moved from her dreamy, dazed stupor, and who also promptly let out a little scream of shock.

“Ah!” she started, and Lena laughed, before teasingly wagging her finger at the blonde.

“Alright, doc? Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“N-none of your business!” she replied, utterly amused and embarrassed all at once by herself, and opened the door. “Come on. I’ll have no teasing today, thank you.”

“Aww, but you made it so easy just then!”

Angela laughed to herself, and allowed Lena in.

The two talked, briefly, about work, about their partners, about things that come and go in passing pleasantries; Lena remarking about how sweet Angela looked in love, and Angela said the same. She had examined Lena’s heart rate briefly, and her blood pressure; before Lena noticed her caduceus stick in the corner, placed idly on a silver table.

She couldn’t remember the things she said if she tried, that initiated such conversation. But she remembered it being one where Angela cried.

Lena remembered, however, that she had asked the all-important question;

“How would you cope?”

And Angela simply replied with,

“I wouldn’t.”

 

She told Lena of a story that almost killed her emotionally, and at the time, did kill Fareeha. Angela rarely had to use her resurrection feature of her caduceus, but this time, she _did_ , and it was for the one person she did not want to ever have to use it for.

Fareeha had been protecting Angela at the time, which only made matters worse. She had begun flying up high to avoid a stray rocket heading Angela’s way at Volskaya; and instead, did not anticipate one approaching over the rooftops, and was hit, full force to the stomach. Her armour had blown up, sharp shards stuck in her skin, and her helmet cracked as she was ripped down to the ground by gravity; Angela internally screaming, and the tears pouring down her face as she speechlessly fell to the ground.

Reinhardt and other members of her team could see how deathly white she had gone, and how utterly dizzy she felt, holding her bleeding lover in her arms, and unsure if the resurrection feature would even work; and when the golden, beautiful light engulfed Fareeha’s body, Angela clamped her hands to her mouth in disbelief; watching as the light began shimmering upwards through her wounds, repairing all damages to her physically, and bringing her back with a fierce splutter of air and a scream.

Fareeha shot bolt upright; looking at Angela, who was completely besides herself, full of blame and guilt and horror, and who finally allowed herself to finally break into hysterical cries.

Fareeha held her, shaking, as Reinhardt shielded them both from any further blasts; and Angela said that all she could remember of that day, was Fareeha telling her that other members of the team were making arrangements for them to retreat.

Lena fell silent, after hearing that story; the story of someone so accomplished, so medically professional and so confident just…crumbling into a million pieces, just like that.

Love was _terrifying_ , Lena thought, as well as the most blissful thing on earth. She remarked, as Angela brushed away the tears of her trauma, how wonderful it was that she was able to save Fareeha’s life. Angela smiled, and nodded happily in agreement; it truly was a miracle.

Lena was dragged from her memories back to reality, and let out another sigh, this time in melancholy worry, and shuffled a little in her bed; engulfed in so many feelings as the morning began to poke out even more through her curtains. She moved her face ever so slightly against Amélie’s bare shoulder, and her lips dragged against her skin idly; unexpectedly bringing out a hitched breath from Amélie’s sleeping throat.

She felt the twinge of lust hit her lower abdomen. Lena thought back to the events before they had gone to bed, and just what had led them there after such a full day’s work; falling back through Lena’s door, Amélie’s hand swiping around behind her during their kisses in an attempt to shut it; and Lena’s hands slipping themselves up into Amélie’s hair, moaning into their kisses. God, she just couldn’t get _enough_ , and everyone knew it.

Amélie would pull Lena into her embrace, kissing her with flicks of her tongue against her bottom lip, and Lena would be helpless under her touch. Who _wouldn’t_ be? She thought to herself, and every night was utter bliss.

Lena had asked Amélie, months before they had more or less moved in together, about Gérard; the night after their first kiss, and the night that guilt was eating her alive. Amélie laughed, almost as though she didn’t even know who Gérard was, and moved her hand dismissively.

“That’s not ever something you have to worry about, Chérie.” Amélie had said to her the next morning, amidst sneaking into an office. Lena was stood between Amélie’s legs, wrapped around her waist, and her hands on Amélie’s shoulders as she sat on the desk in front of her; with Amélie smiling in between each of their kisses. “You are the one I love.”

Lena couldn’t help but smile, and laughed into a kiss.

“Ooh, you are so bloody charming.”

“Oui.” Amélie replied smugly, and Lena chuckled. “Why do you ask, though?”

“Well…” Lena began, leaning back a little, as Amélie slipped her heels onto the floor with a firm click, and wrapped her arms around Lena’s waist. “He _is_ your husband.”

Amélie giggled again, and Lena looked at her with confusion.

“Chérie…I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” she began. “Have you truly not noticed how Gérard and I are never affectionate?”

Lena paused, and blinked.

“…Not really?”

“Next time you see us together,” Amélie began, which made Lena’s stomach turn at the thought, despite her protests. “Look at our actions. We have never been in love, mon amour. Our whole marriage has been a ruse for us to be with those we truly wish to be with.”

“What?” Lena asked in confusion, and ran a hand through her hair. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means no suspicion will be cast onto those that we both truly care about,” Amélie replied. “In this line of work…in our positions of power, where do you think the enemy will try to strike? Where it would hurt the most, oui?”

“That’s…that’s very true, yes.”

“Exactly. How can one be struck down in the face of duty, when the one that has gone missing is not someone you care for? I couldn’t care less about Gérard, or what he does. But what matters in the face of the public eye is that neither of us are alone, and that we can be as free as anybody…as can our lovers.”

Amélie chuckled at seeing the dumbfounded expression on Lena’s utterly relieved face, and stroked it with her thumb.

“Lena…my dearest…” she began, with Lena’s hands cupping her face. “If you would rather hear it from the source, from Gérard himself, please, by all means -”

“No.” Lena replied, firmly. “I believe you.”

Amélie smiled, and kissed at Lena’s chin. “And why is that, chérie?”

Lena laughed, and poked Amélie’s cheek with her index finger.

“You know exactly why, don’t you?”

“But I love to hear you say such a thing.”

Lena smirked confidently, as Amélie ran her hands through her chestnut, spiky hair; and kissed against Amélie’s ruby-red lips.

“Because I love you.”

 

Lena smiled to herself at the memory of such a wonderful moment in her life, and wrapped her arms tighter around Amélie’s waist as they lay together in bed - and sure enough, Amélie was not lying.

She had always known that Amélie was not a liar. There was no bone in her body that doubted her telling the truth in that moment. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, or perhaps it was truly undiluted trust for the person she adored – who knew? Lena certainly didn’t, and she had never been in love before this very moment in her life.

And over the weeks, she watched them, when they had to be apart; Amélie not paying the slightest bit of attention to Gérard, and vice versa, instead, only looking at Lena. Her eyes poured into Lena’s soul, and her smile…god, her _smile_. How did someone describe something as beautiful as that?

Lena wasn’t particularly bothered about where Gérard was looking, but there were whispers of him and Jack Morrison spread across the camp, even _with_ the façade that he and Amélie were a happily married couple. Even when they had gotten together, Lena had gotten the sensation that neither of them were being unfaithful, and she was right – a business arrangement of a marriage for protection.  

“Mm…Lena…”

Amélie stirred in her sleep; her eyelids flickering a little as she stirred, and Lena held her tightly, whispering against her ear.

“I’m here, love.”

Amélie made a noise of happiness in her daze, and stretched back a little against Lena; lulling her head against the crook of Lena’s neck. She smiled, her eyes still slowly flittering between closed and half-lit, and kissed her lover’s cheek.

“Ah…” she mumbled sleepily, and pulled Lena’s arms closer around her. “Good morning, amour.”

Lena laughed softly, and kissed Amélie’s lips as a morning welcome, which soon turned into sleepily kissing in bed.

“Mm…you’re always such a good kisser…” Lena mumbled softly against her lips, and Amélie wrapped up her hands in Lena’s hair sleepily, pulling the woman she loved on top of her drowsily.  

“I love kissing you, Lena…have you not slept?”

“Hm?” Lena responded almost instinctively, before Amélie leant back to look at her; a little more open eyed than before.

“You haven’t slept again, have you, my darling? What are you doing, hm?”

Lena lay against Amélie’s chest as she stroked her back, her fingertips drowsily scaling her spine; gently brushing it with her fingertips, and Lena felt her eyes flickering to a close.

“I just…worry…”

Amélie felt her gaze soften, even amidst the cosiness of an already soft situation; and this time, it was her turn to embrace Lena; as she stroked her skin with one hand, resting her other in the tangles of her hair.

“My love…I’m here. Don’t worry anymore.” Amélie spoke softly, and Lena mumbled drowsily against her skin. “Rest.”

“I don’t want to…”

“But you must. Do you not want to spend today together, mon amour?”

“…Of course I bloody do, Amélie…”

Amélie laughed to herself, and felt Lena giggle against her stomach, as she stroked her hair.

“No more worrying at night, my angel. You must allow yourself some relaxation.”

Lena cuddled up a little closer to Amélie, who wrapped her arms around Lena’s waist warmly, and kissed her forehead.

“You always feel…so warm...” Lena mumbled, utterly emotionally exhausted, and allowed her eyes to finally close.

The morning had finally broken outside, and the dimly lit neon of the clock now read 6:21. Amélie’s eyes were still drowsy; screaming internally at how it was far too early to even be awake; and so, she kissed Tracer’s cheek once more, pulling her harder against her as she slept, and mouthed one last I love you against her skin.

Amélie Lacroix surely had enough worries for the world to muse over; her head was full of the tormenting ideas of what might have happened had she been kidnapped by Talon, or what might happen if Talon should ever find out of her love for Lena Oxton – but now was not the time for those thoughts.

Now was the time for rest. And so, upon letting her eyes flicker back to sleep alongside her most loved, most precious, most wonderful treasure in the world, Amélie fell back asleep; this time, with her arms tightly around her loved one, and feeling the most grateful she had ever felt to have narrowly escaped the clutches of such a terrible organization – if only just for this morning alone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to follow me on mercyisgay @ tumblr! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧


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